


Don't Lose It To The Tour

by RMPBP



Series: Role Play [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Emotional Eating, M/M, Ryden, Stuffing, Weight Gain, fat kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:40:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RMPBP/pseuds/RMPBP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>Prompt: Brendon finds a cake on the kitchen of the bus, he is tempted and without realizing it, he eats it all. At the show he is all bloated and his pants don't fit. He hopes the fans don't notice.</strong>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Lose It To The Tour

**Author's Note:**

> Yay RMPBP and undertheblue role play! undertheblue was Brendon, RMPBP was Ryan.
> 
> Additional Author's note:
> 
> it's not perfect, it's a role-play. this kink is one of our very favorites and sadly it is not a thing yet, nobody wants him here, but we're getting it to be public.
> 
> please, if you don't like what's on the tags, don't go further than this.  
> thanks to everyone who comments!

**Prompt: Brendon finds a cake on the kitchen of the bus, he is tempted and without realizing it, he eats it all. At the show he is all bloated and his pants don't fit. He hopes the fans don't notice.**

There was a pink-ish, creamy cake sitting on the counter of the small tour bus and Brendon had been intently watching it since he woke up, wondering if it was from any of his bandmates. It was one of those typical birthday cakes you could buy at any Walmart or supermarket but Brendon had woken up around noon and it seemed incredibly appealing to his hangover from the day before.

Ryan watched Brendon eye the cake. "What are you doing?"

Brendon snapped out of his daze, "Err, i'm sorry, just... who is this from? Why is it here?" Brendon frowned and scratched a spot behind his ear.

"Just cake. I got it for the bus. You can have some, if you want," he said before he turned, leaving Brendon alone in the small kitchen.

"Oh i see..." Ryan could be quite stupid, he could also be weird and a loner. Brendon got closer to the cake, happy that he had consent for eating some. He stupidly looked for a plate, a knife, and a fork. The fork fell to the floor, slipping from his hands. "Fuck," he cursed and kneeled to pick it up. Standing again made him hit his head against the cupboard. "Hell, why do i have to be so clumsy?" He was getting annoyed and his face was contorting in a slight discomfort

Ryan twisted his face as he entered a bunk room. "What are you doing? Are you ok?" he shouted, maybe sounding too rough for what he was saying. He'd been told he could sound rather rude, Brendon especially liked to tell him how upset it made him, but he couldn't really help the way he spoke.

"Yes, I am" Brendon yelled half heartedly, then he muttered, "thanks for caring" with heavy sarcasm. he sliced the cake into quarters -they were four after all? weren't they?- and put one slice on his plate. He crawled back to his bunk, he was still shirtless from sleeping and his hair was messed up. He preferred the solitude his bunk provided.

Ryan stood back to watch Brendon crawl behind his bed's curtain. He wanted to get as much sleep before the show as he could, but he couldn't help but notice how much cake Brendon had. It's looked like a quarter of it- at the least. Why would he eat so much all at one time? 

Brendon got comfortable and logged into Twitter with his phone. He took bites from the piece of cake hoping it would silence his rumbling stomach.

Ryan listened to a stomach grumble, but he and Brendon were the only ones there. And it wasn't his stomach. Then he saw the curtain glow, the light of a phone or a computer, probably. Brendon just ate and now he was having cake, resting in bed and being lazy. "What are you doing Brendon? Don't you think you've been getting too fat to just sit around and eat all day? It isn't healthy, you know."

"Shut up asshole," Brendon scrunched up his face. "Whatever." He was feeling content with the decreasing portions of cake. Ryan had been really mean lately. He chewed some cake. Why couldn't he shut up or go back to the cute friend he had been until this tour started? And why make comments on his weight? It would be an agreement to say that Brendon was quite uncomfortable about his big girly hips and his ass that lately had been getting kind of uncomfortably tight inside of his jeans. Brendon might have gained a few pounds since tour had started but his body was petite. Why couldn't Brendon have a skinny frame like Ryan did? He ate the a mouthful of cake, finishing his plate.

Ryan lay back in his bunk, shaking his head. If Brendon was going to just ignore him and go destroy his body, he wasn't going to be the one to protect him from their crazy fans when they started attacking him about how much fatter he'd gotten. Usually, they all lost weight over tour with the little money they had, but Brendon had been finding ways to pile it on. Maybe he could still help Brendon. "I hope you didn't eat all that," he said. Making him feel bad about eating would surely get him to stop. "The crowd is gonna see how big you got, you know. Especially now that you're probably all bloated because you ate almost everything in the damn kitchen."

Brendon wasn't going to cry about Ryan's remarks but he got sad. Sadder than usual. Ryan was getting over his limits. Brendon didn't eye his belly as he put on a big shirt and walked over to the kitchen to leave the plate there, but Brendon did eye the cake sitting on the table. he was sure Ryan was right but it was tempting him, haunting him. Brendon was a comfort eater sometimes. Without really thinking about his decision he poked his fork into it. He always lost weight on tours because he hated eating in front of people in first place... Well, that and he might have been trying to not to eat on purpose. Now he was so done with that shit. He chewed the cake in his mouth and swallowed feeling kind of full but that didn't stop him from weighing the option of shoveling the entire cake with his bare hands to his mouth.

"You better not be eating! It's for your own good!"

"Shut up, Ryan!" Brendon was annoyed, he was feeling how his pants were getting sort of tight against his bloated stomach but he didn't care, he was in a trance. He could not describe the blank action of shoveling food into his mouth. He was not thinking, he was not measuring anything. At least not until he realized his tummy was aching badly and that there were only some crumbs and half a quarter left on the plastic plate the cake had been on. When he realized this he panicked a little bit and spit out what was in his mouth into the garbage tin.

His eyes widened and he went silently back to his bunk, feeling oddly full.

Ryan was out of his bunk and waiting at the doorway. "Just one short glance gave him all he needed. Brendon looked like he could be pregnant. His shirt, as big as it was, was pulling and wrinkling around his stomach. "What did you do? We have to go on stage soon!" 

"Ryan, could you just please silence your mouth for a few hours? I'm not feeling that well." Brendon blushed furiously and shoved him out of his way so he could hide behind his bunk curtains. He closed his eyes really hard and stretched his shirt so it would hang loose. He didn't own "big" shirts. A big shirt would normally be one that properly fitted.

"I'm just trying to help you," Ryan snapped, following him. Really, he wished he could see Brendon this big, and even bigger, all the time, but he needed to look normal for all their normal fans. Ryan didn't know what was wrong with him, but he always liked to watch Brendon from afar while he ate. He would never admit that's why that whole cake was there. At the same time he was trying to get Brendon to stop eating for his own sake, he knew he was egging him on and really only going to cause him to end up eating even more. It would be even better to see him so big in front of the whole crowd, up on stage and maybe even struggling to get around and dance with how full he was.

Ryan's voice was arrogant and monotonous, as always. Brendon felt tears tingle his eyes. why the fuck am i crying over stupid shit like this? Brendon snuggled into his messy mattress and tried not to think about his bloated self or how appealing it looked to maybe shove one or two fingers down his throat so Ryan would stop bugging him. He would never do that though, he has never had the courage to do that. He had considered it a lot of times but not once he has done it. Brendon just closed his eyes hoping to relax before they had to get into the venue for the show.

Ryan pulled back the curtains and sat where he could on the small mattress. He let his hand drift over to try and massage Brendon's hugely bloated belly. "You must be in pain, Brendon. You're stomach is huge, when it's usually flat. Soon enough, you won't be just bloated and the fans will complain," he said, his voice still hard. "I know everything that you've eaten today and it's just way too much. Is there even any cake left? Or did you eat the whole thing like a gross, fat pig?"

"Go away Ryan," Brendon scooted over, trying to make room for Ryan and at the same time to get away from his wandering hands. "Please, just, let me be." He might have choked on the last syllable but he was talking with a pillow over his red cheeks. "I know i'm fat, I know I'm a greedy glutton." He cursed himself for being stupid. Stop. Stupid. He also kind of moaned in pain due the food digesting inside of him. He had no idea how he would fit in his performance clothes.

Ryan took Brendon's scooting over to lay in front of him, pushing his hand back on Brendon's stomach, rubbing his side and smoothing his fingers over Brendon's belly button as the other one moaned. He was thinking to moan too, as his pants must have been getting just as tight. "Your concert clothes are tiny. What, are you gonna go on in sweats? Borrow one of Spencer's shirts? You'll like shit. A fat piece of shit. Panic! at the Disco has an image, Brendon. We're young, we're thin, we wear tight clothes. You can't be getting fat and eating so much you can't fit into your stage clothes. We need you to look good, too."

And Brendon’s self esteem fell lower than it could possibly be, lower than Ryan's dad’s grave. Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. Now he was sure Ryan despised him, if not hated him. He was so disgusting he should never be seen. Tears were now streaming down his cheeks. Ryan was the biggest asshole. "Ok, I understand," he was trying so hard to not choke on his own tears. He knew he looked horrendous, probably cheeks bulging and red. He defiantly shoved Ryan aside then and went to the bathroom, face flushing from tears and embarrassment and hatred towards himself. Ryan would probably kick him out of the band for being a bad image for them. He didn't even have that amazing voice Ryan wanted for his songs. They would do amazing without him. He sat in front of the toilet bowl and his fingers were aching. His fingers were refusing to cooperate. The rational side of his brain was telling him to throw up, but he couldn't. Not even after all. "I'm such a failure,” he whispered to no one but himself to hear.

Ryan gave himself a moment to decide he wanted to follow Brendon. "What are you doing?" he asked, the words rushing out of his mouth, trying to reach Brendon before his fingers could hit his throat. Ryan took to a knee behind Brendon and pulled him back from the toilet, an arm around Brendon's stomach, squeezing it to drag him back. Ryan landed, his cock poorly pressed to Brendon's bottom.

Brendon was now hyperventilating. What the fuck? No. Ryan would make fun of him forever. The poor fat Brendon wanted to lose weight. Yes. Maybe he should just stop eating like he had done in the past. He felt something at his back... Could it be? Oh god, yes it was. Ryan's crotch was seemingly aroused and poking one of his butt cheeks. If it was possible he got redder. Brendon forced the tears to stop falling. And he heard the door of the bus open from afar. he didn't register when Jon called their names until a few seconds later after Ryan's rapid reaction of pushing him aside and looking flushed while frowning and looking mad and embarrassed and apologetic and just a mix of too many things. "We're talking about this after the show, Brendon. Just, don't do stupid shit, ok? You could damage your vocal chords or something like that" Brendon's stomach dropped. Or something like that. Sure Ryan wasn't good with emotions but wasn't it just a little bit too cold after being friends for about two years? He didn't care about Brendon, he only cared about the band.

Ryan stepped away from the rack of clothes to go over to Brendon. "They don't fit, now, do they? I told you they wouldn't." He was already dressed, his ruffly rose vest very flattering, making him look like he never actually ate and his makeup done perfectly. The only thing on Brendon that made him look good was all the makeup. His shirt was unbuttoned and he was struggling to close his pants. His skin was red and stretched. It was even hot when Ryan reached out to touch, moving his fingertips along.

Ryan was like this god and he was a hobbit. Ryan always looked good but he was an unmoral being among mortals when he was dressed up about to perform. It was intimidating. "Yes, they're just a little tight," Brendon said as he sucked in his stomach and buttoned the striped pants trying to shield his body away with the rack of clothes. Ryan sighed and stayed there while he embarrassingly sucked in his stomach again and buttoned the shirt. He would have to wear a jacket or a vest over that so it wouldn't be that noticeable the way the buttons would fly out if he relaxed his torso.

Ryan reached behind himself and picked up a big red jacket. Big, as in it was long and would probably make it around Brendon's large middle. It was long and was velvet, but everything Panic! At the Disco wore was form fitting, and should be flattering. Unless of course you'd eaten all day and finished with an entire cake. "Here," he said, shoving it into Brendon's hands. He wished Brendon would have to go out with nothing but his shirt, but it really was no fair. He wanted to see him waddling around the stage, holding his stomach with a pained grimace on his face and needing to huff because he was so full he could hardly breathe, let alone sing. "Try to look normal," he snapped and spun, his own tails flying before he could stalk away.

Brendon felt miserable as he put on the jacket. He still needed to suck his stomach in while he was wearing it but he would have to bear it. He locked himself in the bathroom and accidentally made eye contact with Ryan, who made him feel as worthless as someone could be, he thought that maybe he saw Ryan quirk an eyebrow and he could practically hear him saying 'gonna puke, fatass?'. He locked the door though and started his vocal warm ups, avoiding looking in the mirror and regretting it when he did. He looked like he was in pain. He looked kind of bigger in his performance clothes, if it was possible. Well, truth was he didn't look that much fatter, nor bigger, but he felt like he weighed a million stones. After ten minutes of silence and scrutinizing himself in the mirror, he heard someone knock on the door.

"Let's go, piggy," Ryan called between knocks. "You ready yet? Look any skinnier? It's time to go on!"

Brendon could have exploded in tears right then but he held back the urge. He just punched the wall and his hand stung. Brendon cursed at Ryan in his brain, this couldn't be happening, this was like a bad dream. He avoided looking at Ryan, too. It was almost as if he didn't deserve looking at someone as gorgeous as him. Suddenly, in a blur, he was on stage. He was sweating, he was singing, he was trying to put up a show and smile and chat with the crowd but his face fell considerably every time he glanced at Ryan. Sometimes he would be smirking or mouthing ‘pig’. Sometimes he would just simply think about earlier and how Ryan said they needed to talk afterwards.

Ryan tried to play his part the whole show and keep his eyes off Brendon, and his mind, too. He didn't want the crowd seeing him aroused, or they'd never let him live it down. But still, it was hard. He tried to tease Brendon gently on the stage, calling pig, or fatty whenever their eyes did meet. He loved Brendon being so big, and so embarrassed in front of a thousand people. He knew he had to be careful, though. Brendon had a history of hurting himself and he had almost started one of throwing up to look good. Ryan didn't want that for Brendon, even if he might have to stop the teasing and give up the sexual excitement he got. He was sure they could clear things up when they had their little talk after the show.

Right after the show ended Brendon practically ran to the bathroom at the venue and locked himself in. He was initially thinking of taking a hot and long shower and he ended up curled up in a ball under the stream of hot water wishing the bloated mess in his tummy would just go away.

Ryan had been pacing for nearly forty minutes, waiting for Brendon to get washed off so they could talk. He stopped hearing movement eventually, not even little squeaks to show any sign of life and he panicked. He felt horrible that it had taken him forty minutes to get worried, but he tried to save the guilt for after Brendon was rescued. "Bren!" he shouted, pounding the door with all that he had. It was just a shower but he knew that if Brendon wanted to, he could find a way to make a pool for his nose. "Brendon, I'm coming in! Get up!"

Brendon miserably dried himself and sat at the edge of the sink poking at his belly. When he heard Ryan, his first thought was 'Wow, he cares' and then he just concluded he wanted to shower. Brendon unlocked the door, his eyes splotchy and red but he did not make eye contact with Ryan. In fact he did not look at Ryan at all and tried to not touch him on his way out but he was suddenly being pushed back in by thinner, paler arms and surprisingly, gentle hands.

As soon as he got Brendon back into the humid bathroom, he closed and locked the door. "I wanted to talk to you remember?" he said, being as gentle as he could. Brendon shied away, and Ryan just sat him down on the toilet. "About earlier. Remember? When you ended up on my, my lap? After you tried to make yourself vomit?" he said, ending with a stronger tone, spinning it on Brendon.

"I'm sorry Ryan, I know you should kick me out of the band, I know you don't need me."  
It was like Brendon had forgotten that they were not only bandmates, but friends, best friends, in fact. it was like Brendon did not remember a time where he didn't resent his body. "I'm sorry Ryan, i should never eat again"

"Bren, that's not what this is about. Did your ass get too fat for you to feel? I know you sat on my dick. And I would never, ever kick you out of the band so don't ever say that. And don't fucking say you won't eat again because I know what you were trying to do. You were trying to vomit. And for no reason. You're fine."

Brendon flushed at that. He had definitely felt something. When Ryan called him Bren it was like something lit up in the back of his mind and reminded him of Ryan, the guy who has spent infinite hours with him eating popcorn and watching corny movies on his bed while they have free time. Not Ryan, the band leader. Brendon didn't remember, though, the last time he intentionally looked at Ryan directly in the eyes or sought eye contact from anybody. "No i'm not 'fine', I'm a pig, I'm fat, look at me." Brendon was trying to cover his abdomen with his arms during the whole time he'd been sat. His tummy was almost so big it could rest on his thighs. He wasn't that bloated anymore but his normally flat tummy was poking out. He looked down and kept on talking "I'm just a bad image for the band. I can't even fit my ass into my show clothes! You're right, Ryan."

Ryan slid down the wall. "Bren, stop. You seem to keep skipping over that part where I had a fucking boner. I don't get them for just no reason, anymore. I think you're fine. And I didn't want to have to say this, but if it's really the only thing that'll get you to stop, then I guess I will. I guess I have to," he said, but being the dramatic whore he was, he had to drop his head and tug at his hair first. "B, I like it."

Brendon’s mind was busy processing the first part of what Ryan had just said. it was true, they weren't teenagers anymore, they didn't get random boners, ok, he could agree with that. But what did he mean by 'liking it'? Now it was Brendon's turn to tug at his own hair and bite his lip. "I'm confused now. What do you mean by... y'know... what?" Brendon looked down and hugged his torso, he felt sick. He didn't want Ryan to see his abdomen, or his body, or him. At all. He clawed at his sides and pressed his nails against his skin.

"What the fuck could it be, Bren? I like you. I like seeing you so big. So stuffed. I like it. That's what I like. I like that you can't fit into your stage clothes. I don't know why! I just do, ok? So stop threatening to throw up, and stop saying I'm gonna kick you out and stop saying you won't eat. Just stop. I like it. That's what I like."

"You like me?" Brendon's brain stopped processing his surroundings and his hands stopped clawing at his skin leaving five identical red marks at each side of his torso behind. It was as all the heavy emotions from the day had died down leaving Brendon exhausted and kind of numb.

"Yeah, I do," Ryan sighed. His shoulders relaxed, He was beyond relieved when Brendon didn't start screaming or shoving fingers down his throat. "I like you and I like you when you're so full like this."

"No you don't, you've been telling me you don't want me to eat all day long." Brendon hung his head low. he just wanted to disappear. he felt Ryan's hands over his, on his hips. Brendon covered the red marks his nails had left so Ryan wouldn't see them.

Ryan's cheeks flushed. "I only do that 'cuz it makes it hotter. I don't know why, but I just really like seeing you so, so bloated and embarrassed. I can't help but to say that stuff, B."

Brendon kind of melted when he heard Ryan talk so gently and carry his hands so delicately. He bit his lip again. "I need to lose weight though. I bet the fans have been tweeting all kinds of shit during this whole time." Brendon dared to look at Ryan's face for the first time in a long time, his hazel eyes looked bright and honest. He kept wondering though if Ryan wasn't truly disgusted by him.

"Don't lose it," Ryan whined. He must have had some kind of adrenaline rush trying to tell Brendon that he liked seeing him thick, because he was suddenly exhausted, almost as soon as Brendon said "You like me?" in that shy tone he had. Ryan just crawled up closer, close enough to rest his nose against Brendon's neck. "I think maybe you could gain some more. You would like that, B. Just eat all day, not having to worry about a thing?"

"What does this mean, Ryan?" He was feeling anxious all of sudden. “Do you want us to be a thing?" Brendon would pretty much love that. Ryan, as he said before, was like the most beautiful human being he had ever seen, and even though their relationship had been so rough during this tour, he was his best friend. "And about my weight... maybe i could try that..." he swallowed, "maybe i could like, maybe i could... try it out while we are off tour and lose it when we are on it."

Ryan nodded. His eyes were closed and his knees almost buckled, but he was hanging onto Brendon with all that he could. "Yeah, let's be a thing.You can be my thing," he added with a smirk, but his words were slurred with sleep. "I just can't wait til tour is over. I'll make sure you're very well fed."

Brendon might have been getting aroused but he was too over tired to notice it. "Can we go back to the bus?" He still needed to go over the events from that day to properly acknowledge what had happened. He really wanted to kiss Ryan in that moment, but he was still unsure and kind of scared of what could happen next.

Ryan sat up and sat taller. Seeing Brendon, still so bloated when he looked down, helped him to open his eyes back up again. Brendon smiled at him, so Ryan set his hands on Brendon's neck, his skin so soft, and pulled him closer. His fingertips slipped up to Brendon's cheeks -which were smeared with makeup he hadn't bothered taking off before he showered- and Ryan tipped his own head, his eyes closed by the time his thin lips met Brendon's, soft and full.


End file.
